47. On a Scholler Forbeare friend t' unclaspe this booke Onely in the fore-front looke For in it have errours bin Which made th' authour call it in Yet know this 't shall have more worth At the second comming forth 48. On a young woman The body which within this earth is laid Twice sixe weekes knew a wife a saint a maid Fair maid chast wif pure saint yet 't is not strange She was a woman therefore pleas'd to change And now shee 's dead some woman doth remaine For still she hopes onâ—e to be chang'd againe 49. On Brawne Here Brâ—wne the quondam begger lyes Who counted by his tale Full sixscore winters in his life Such vertue is in ale Ale was his meate ale was his drinke Ale did him long reprive And could he still have drunke his ale He had beene still alive 50. On a lyar Good passenger here lyes one here That living did lie every where 51. On a Dyer He lives with God none can deny That while he liv'd to th' world did dye 52. On a Candle Here lyes I wot a little star That did belong to Jupiter Which from him Prometheus stole And with it a fire-coale Or this is that I meane to handle Here doth lie a farthing-candle That was lovâ—d well having it's light But losing that now bids good-night 53. Another Here lyes the chandlers chiefest say Here lyes the schollers pale-fac'd boy Having nought else but skin and bone Dy'd of a deepe consumption 54. On M. R. Who soonest dyes lives long enough Our life is but a blast or puffe I did resist and strive with death But soone he put me out of breath He of my life thought to bereave me But I did yeeld onely to breathe me O're him I shall in triumph sing Thy conquest grave where is thy sting 55. On an Inne-keeper It is not I that dye I doe but leave an Inne Where harbour'd was with me all filthy kind of sin It is not I that dye I doe but now begin Into eternall joy by faith to enter in Why weepe you then my friends my parents my kin Lament ye wheÌ„ I lose but weep not when I win 56. On Hobson the Carrier Whom seeke ye sirs Old Hobson fye upâ—n Your tardinesse the carrier is gone Why stare you so nay you deserve to faile Alas here 's naught but his old rotten maile Her went a good-while since no question store Are glad who vext he would not goe before And some are grieu'd hee 's gone so soone away The Lord knowes why he did no longer stay How could he please you all I 'm sure of this He linger'd soundly howsoe're you misse But gone he is nor was he surely well At his departure as mischance befell For he is gone in such unwonted kinde As ne're before his goods all left behinde 57. On Bolus If gentlenesse could tame the fates or wit Delude them Bolus had not dyed yet But one that death o're rules in judgement sits And saies ouâ— sins are stronger than our witts 58. On Iuggler Death came to see thy trickes and cut in twaine Thy thread why did'st not make it whole againe 59. On a Child A child and dead alas how could it come Surely thy thread of life was but a thrumme 60. On a Clowne Softly tread this earth upon For here lyes our Corydon Who through care to save his sheepe Watcht too much oh let him sleepe 60. On Queene Anne Thee to invite the great God sent his star Whose friends kinsmen mightie Princes are For though they run the race of men and dye Death serves but to refine their majesty So did the Queen from hence her court remove And left the earth to be enthron'd above Thus is she chang'd not dead no good Prince dyes But like the day-star onely sets to rise 62. On Sir Horatio Palavozeene Here lyes Sir Horatio Palavozeene Who robb'd the Pope to pay the Queene And was a theife A theife thou ly'st For why he robo'd but Antichrist Him death with his beesome sweept from Babram Into the bosome of old Abraham But then came Hercules with his club And struck him downe to Belzebub 63. On an onely child Here lyes the fathers hope the mothers joy Though they seeme haplesse happy was the boy Who of this life the long and tedious race Hath travell'd out in lesse then 2 moneth 's space Oh happie soule to whom such grace was given To make so short a voyage backe to heaven As here a name christendome t' obtaine And to his maker then returne againâ— 64. Another As carefull nurses on their beds doe lay Their babes which would too long the wantons play So to prevent my youth's ensuing crimes Nature my nurse laid me to bed betimes 65. On a Muâ—â—tian Be not offended at our sad complaint You quire of Angels that have gain'd a Saint Where all perfection met in skill and voice We mourne our losse but yet commend your choyce 66. On Prince Henry Did he dye young oh no it could not be For I know few that liv'd so long as he Till God and all men lov'd him then be bold The man that lives so long must needs be old 67. On a Cobler Come hither reade my gentle friend And here behold a cobler's end Longer in length his life had gone But that he had no laste so long O mighty death whose dart can kill The man that made him soules at will 68. On Master Doe Do is my name and here I lye My Grammar tells me Do fit Di. 69. On a Gard'ner Could hee forget his death that ev'ry houre Was emblem'd to it by the fading flowre Should hee not mind his end yes sure he must That still was conversant 'mong beds of dust 70. On Edmund Spencer poet laureat He was and is see then where lyes the odâ—s Once god of Poets Poet now to th' gods And though his time of life be gone about The life of his lines never shall weare out 71. Ou Taylour a Sergeant kill'd by a Horse A Taylour is a thiefe a Sergeant is worse Who here lyes dead god-a-mercy horse 71. On Sir Francis Drake drowned Where Drake first found there last he lost his fame And for his tombe left nothing but his name His body 's buried under some great wave The sea that was his glory is his grave Of him no man true Epitaph can make For who can say here lies Sir Francis Drake 73. On a Drunkard Byâ—ax the drunkard while he liv'd would say The more I drinke the more me think 's I may But see how death haâ—h prov'd his saying just For he hath drunke himselfe as dry as dust 74. On a Child Tread softly passenger for here doth lye A dainty Jewell of sweet infancie A harmelesse babe that onely came cry'd In baptisme to bee washt from sin and dy'd 75. Another In this marble-casket lyes A matchlesse jewell of rich prize Whom nature in the worlds disdaine But shew'd and
this monstrous birth abortive be Or else I will shake hands with poetrie 497 A Serving man One to a Serving man this councell sent To get a Master that 's intelligent Then if of him no wages he could get Yet he would understand he 's in his debt 498 Two Theeves Two Theeves by night began a lock to pick One in the house awake thus answer'd quick Why how now what a stir you there do keep Goe home again we are not yet asleep 499 A Physitian and a Farrier A neate Physitian for a Farrier sends To dresse his horse promising him amends Nay quoth the Farrier amends is made For nothing do we take of our own trade 500 A poore Peasant A poore man being sent for to the King Began to covet much a certaine thing Before he went being but an Iron naile His friend did aske him what it would availe Quoth he this is as good as one of steele For me to knock now into fortunes wheele 501 Three Pages Three Pages on a time together met And made a motion that each one would let The other know what hee 'd desire to be Having his wish thereto they did agree Quoth one to be a Melon I would chuse For then I 'm sure none would refuse To kisse my breech although the sent were hot And so they 'd know whether I were good or not 502 A Gentleman and his Phisitian A Gentleman not richest in discretion Was alwayes sending for his own phisition And on a time he needs would of him know What was the cause his pulse did go so slow Why quoth the Doctor thus it comes to passe Must needs go slow which goes upon an asse 503 A Peasant and his wife A Peasant with his wife was almost wilde To understand his Daughter was with childe And said if to the girle sh 'ad taken heed Sh 'ad not been guilty of so foule a deed Husband said she I sweare by cock Welfare a good old token The Devâ—ll him selfe can't keep that lock Which every key can open 504 G-L-Asse He that loves Glasse without a G Leave out L and that is hee Nihil hic nisi carmina desunt EPITAPHS 1. On a travelling begger HEre lies a Vagrant person whom our lawes Of late growne strict denied passage cause Hee wandred thus therefore returne he must From whence at first he hither came to dust 2. On a Mason So long the Mason wrought on other's walles That his owne house of clay to ruine falles No wonder spitefull death wrought his annoy He us'd to build and death seekes to destroy 3. On a Dyer Though death the Dyer colour-lesse hath made Yet he dies pale and will not leave his trade But being dead the meanes yet doth not lacke To die his friends cloth into mourning blacke Some sure foresaw his death for they of late Vs'd to exclaime upon his dying fate And weake and faint he seem'd oft-times t' have been For to change colours often he was seen Yet there no matter was so foule but he Would set a colour on it handsomlye Death him no unexpected stroke could give That learnt to dye since he began to live He shall yet prove what he before hath try'd And shall once more live after he hath dy'd 4. Of a Schoolemaster The graÌ„mer Schoole a long time taught I have Yet all my skill could not decline the grave But yet I hope it one day will be show'ne In no case save the Ablative alone 5. On William Shake-speare Renowned Spencer lye a thought more nigh To learned Chaucer and rare Beaumont lye A little neerer Spencer to make roome For Shake-speare in your threefold fourefold tombe To lodge all foure in one bed make a shift Vntill Doomes dâ—y for hardly will a fifth Betwixt this day and that by Fates be slaine For whom your curtaines may be drawn againe If your precedencie in death doe barre A fourth place in your sacred Sepulchre Vnder this sacred marble of thine owne Sleepe rare Tragaedian Shake-speare sleep alone Thy unmolested peace in an unshared cave Possesse as Lord not tenant of thy grave That unto us and others it may bee Honour hereafter to be laid by thee 6. On a youth Now thou hast Heaven for merit but 't is strange Mortality should â—nvie at thy change But God thought us unfit for such as thee And made thee consort of eternitye We grieve not then that thou to heaven art takeÌ„ But that thou hast thy friends so soone forsaken 7. On Prince Henry I have no veine in verse but if I could Distill on every word a pearle I would Our sorrowes pearles drop not from pens but eies Whilst other's Muse write mine onely cries 8. On a Foot-boy that dyed with overmuch running Base tyrant death thus to assaile one tyr'd Who scarse his latest breath beeing left expir'd And being too too cruell thus to stay So swift a course at length ran quite away But pretty boy be sure it was not death That left behind thy body out of breath Thy soule and body running in a race Thy soule held out thy body tyr'd apace Thy soule gained and left that lump of clay To rest it selfe untill the latter day 9. On Hobson the Carrier Hobson what 's out of sight is out of mind Is gone and left his letters here behind He that with so much paper us'd to meet Is now alas content to take one sheet 10. Another He that such carriage store was wont to have Is carried now himselfe unto his grave O strange he that in life ne're made but one Six Carriers makes now he is dead and gone 11. Another Here Hobson lyes prest with a heavy loade Who now is gone the old and common Roade The waggon he so lov'd so lov'd to ride That he was drawing on whilst that he dy'd 12. Another Hobsonâ—s not dead but Charles the Northerne swaine Hath sent for him to draw his lightsome-waine 13. On a treacheroâ—s Warrener Behold here lyes a scalded pate quite bare In catching conies who lost many a hare 14. On a faire Damosell Life is the Road to death death Heavens gate must be Heaven is the throne of Christ Christ is life to me 15. On a Foot-man This nimble foot-man ran away from death And here he rested being out of breath Here death him overtooke made him his slave And sent him on an errand to his grave 16. On Queene Anne 〈◊〉 dyed in March was kept all Aprill and buried in May. March with his winds hath strucke a Cedar tall And weeping April mournes the Cedar's fall And May inteÌ„ds her month no flow'rs shal bring Since she must lose the flow'r of all the spring Thy March his winds have caused April show'rs And yet sad May must lose his flow'r of flow'rs 17. Iustus Lipsius Some have high mountaines of Parian stone And some in brasse carve their inscription Some have their tombes of costly marble reaâ—'d But in our teares onely art thou interr'd 18. On
put it up againe 76. On Master Stone Here worthy of a better chest A pretious stone inclos'd doth rest Whom nature had so rarely wrought That Pallas it admir'd and thought No greater jewell than to weare Still such a diamond in her eare But sicknesse did it from her wring And placed it in Libitina's ring Who changed natures worke a new And death's pale image in it drew Pitty that paine had not been sav'd So good a stone to be engrav'd 77. On Master Aire Vnder this stone of marble fayre Lyes th'body ' ntomb'd of Gervase Aire He dy'd not of an ague fitt Nor surfetted of too much witt Me thinks this was a wond'rous death That Aire should dye for want of breath 78. On a young man Surpriz'd by griefe and sicknesse here I lye Stopt in my middle age and soone made dead Yet doe not grudge at God if soone thou dye But know hee trebles favours on thy head Who for thy morning worke equalls thy pay With those that have endur'd the heate of day 79. On Master Sand's Who would live in others breath Fame deceives the dead mans trust When our names doe change by death Sands I was and now am dust 80. On a Scholler Some doe for anguish weepe for anger I That ignorance should live and arte should dye 81. On Master Goad Go adde this verse to Goad's herse For Goad is gone but whither Goad himselfe is gone to God 'T was death's goad drove him thither 82. On Master Munday Hallowed be the Sabboath And farewell all worldly pelfe The weeke begins on Tuesday For Munday hath hang'd himselfe 83. On the two Littletons who were drowned at Oxford 1636. Herelye wee reader canst thou not admire Who both at once by water dy'd and fire For whilst our bodies perisht in the deepe Our soules in love burnt so we fell asleepe Let this be then our Epitaph here lyes Two yet but one one for the other dyes 84. On a Matron Here lyes a wife was chaste a mother blest A modest Matron all these in one chest Sarah unto her mate Mary to God Martha to men whilst here she had abode 85. In Latine thus Vxor casta parens foelix matrona pudica Sara viro mundo Martâ—a Maria Deâ— 86. On a Butler That death should thus from hence our Butler Into my minde it cannot quickly sinke Sure death came thirsty to the butt'ry-hatch catch When he that buisy'd was deny'd him drinke Tut 't was not so 't is like he gave him liquour And death made drunke him made away the quicker Yet let not others grieve to much in mind The Butlers gone the key 's are left behind 87. On a Souldier When I was young in warres I shed my blood Both for my King and for my countries good In elder yeares my care was chieâ—e to be Souldier to him that shed his blood for me 88. On a Tobacconiâ—t Loe here I lye roll'd up like th' Indian weede My pipes I have pack't up for breath I neede Man's breath 's a vopour he himselfe is grasse My breath but of a weede the vapour was When I shal turne to earth good friends beware Least it evap'rate and infect the ayre 94. On Master Thomas Allen. No Epitaphs neede make the just man fam'd The good are prays'd when they are only nam'd 89. On Master Cooke To God his country and the poore he had A zealous Soule free heart and lib'rall minde His wife his children and his kindred sad Lacke of his love his care and kindnesse finde Yet are their sorrowes asswag'd w th the thought He hath attayn'd the happinesse he sought 90. On a Printer whose wife was lame Sleep William sleep she that thine eyes did close Makes lame Iambiques for thee as shee goes 91. On a Taylour who dy'd of the stitch Here lyes a Taylour in this ditch Who liv'd and dyed by the stitch 92. On a dumbe fellow dying of the collicke Here lyes Iohn Dumbello Who dy'd because he was so For if his breech could have spoke His heart surâ—ly had not broke 92. On Isabella a Curtezan He who would write an Epitaph Whereby to make faire Is'bell laugh Must get upon her and write well Here underneath lyes Isabell. 94. On a vertuous wife viz. Susanna wife to Mr. William Horsenell In briefe to speake thy praise let this suffice Thou wert a wife most loving modest wise Of children carefull to thy neighbour's kind A worthy mistris and of liberall mind 95. On M. Christopher Lawson Death did not kill unjustly this good-man But death in death by death did shew his power His pious deedes thoughts to heaven fore-ran There to prepare his soule a blessed bower 96. On Hobson the Carrier Here Hobson lyes amongst his many betters A man unlearned yet a man oâ— letters His carriage was well knowne oft hath he gone In Embassye 'twixt father and the sonne There 's few in Cambridge to his praise be it spoken But may remember him by some good token From whence he rid to London day by day Till death benighting him he loâ—t his way His teame was of the best nor would he have Benee min'd in any way but in the grave Nor is 't a wonder that he thus is gone Since all men knew he long was drawing on Thus rest in peace thou everlasting swaine And supreame waggoner next Charles his wayne 97. On a Welshman Here lyes puried under these stones Shon ap Williams ap Ienkyn ap Iones Her was porne in Wales her was kill'd in Fraâ—â—e Her went to Cottpy a feâ—y mischance La yee now 98. On M. Pricke Vpon the fith day of November Christ's Colledge lost a privie member Cupid and death did both their arrowes micke Cupid shot short but death did hit the pricke Women lament and maidens make great mones Because the Priâ—ke 〈…〉 the stones 99. 〈…〉 Porter At length by worke of wond'rous face Here lyes the porter of Wynchester-gate If gone to heav'n as much I feare He can be but a porter there He fear'd not hell so much for 's sinne As for th' great rapping and oft comming in 100. On M. Carter burnt by the great powder mischance in Finsbury Here lyes an honest Carter yet no clowne Vnladen of his cares his end the crowne Vanisht from hence even in a cloud of smoake A blowne-up Citizen and yet not broke 101. On a Lady dying in Child-bed Borne at the first to bring another forth Shee leaves the world to leave the world her worth Thus Phaenix-like as she was borne to bleede Dying herselfe renew's it in her seede 102. On Prince Henry Loe where he shineth yonder A fixed starre in heaven Whose motions thence coms under None of the Planets seven If that the Moone shou'd tender The Sunne her love and marry They both could not â—ngender So bright a starre as Harry 10. Vpon one who dy'd in prison Reader I liv'd enquire no more Least a spye enter in at doore Such are the times a dead-man
dare Not trust or creditt common ayre But dye and lye entombed here By me I 'le whisper in thine eare Such things as onely dust to dust And without witnesse may entrust 14. On Sir Walter Rawleygh If spite be pleas'd when as her object 's dead Or Malice pleas'd when it hath bruiz'd the head Or envie pleas'd when it hath what it would Then all are pleas'd for Rawleyh's blood is cold Which were it warme active would o'recome And strike the two first blind the other dumbe 105. On Doctour Hacket's wife Drop mournful eyes your pearly trick'ling teares Flow streames of sadnesse drowne the spangled spheares Fall like the tumbling cataracts of Nile Make deafe the world with cries let not a smile Appeare let not an eye be seene to sleepe Nor slumber onely let them serve to weepe Her deare lamented death who in her life Was a religious loyaâ—l loving wife Of children tender to an husband kinde Th' undoubted symptoms of a vertuous minde Which mak's her glorious bove the highest pole Where Angels sing sweet Requicins to her soule Shee liv'd a none-such did a non-such dye Neere Non-such here her corpes interred lye 107. On Waddham Colledge-Butler Man's life is like a new turn'd caske they say The fore-most draught is most times cast awâ—y Such are our younger yeares the following still Are more and more inclining unto ill Such is our man-hood untill age at length Doth sowre it's sweetnes doth stop it's streÌ„gth Then death prescribing to each thing it's 〈◊〉 Takes what is left and tuâ—nes it all to grounds 107. On a Horse Here lyes a Horse who dyed but To make his master goe on foot A miracle should it be so The dead to make the lame to goe Yet fate would have it that the â—ame Should make him goe that made him lame 108. On Aratyne Here biting Aretyne lyes buried With gall more bitter never man was fed The living nor the dead to carpe he spar'de Nor yet for any King or Caesar car'd Onely on God to rayle he had forgot His answer was indeed I know him not 109. On William Coale an Ale-house-keeper at Coaton neere Cambridgâ— Doth William Coale lye here heÌ„ceforth be stale Be strong laugh on us thou Coaton ale Living indeed he with his violent hand Never left grasping thee while he could stand But death at last hath with his fiery flashes Burnt up the Coale and turn'd it into ashes 110. On one Andrew Leygh who was vext with a shrewd wife in his life-time Here lyes Leygh who vext with a shrewd wife To gaine his quiet parted with his life But see the spight she that had alwaies crost Him living dyes mean's to haunte his Ghost But she may faile for Andrew out of doubt Will cause his brother Peter shutt her out 111. On Richard Burbage a famous Actour Exit Burbage 112. On an Infant unborne the Mother dying in travell The Father digg'd a pit and in it left Part of himselfe interr'd that soone bereft The Mother of the gift she gave life so Both now are buried in one tombe of woe 'T is strange the mother should a being give And not have liberty to make it live 'T was strange that the child blindfold espi'd So quick and neere a way to parricide Yet both are justly question'd child and Motheâ— Are guilty of the killing of each other Not with an ill intent both did desire Preserves for life and not a funerall fire And yet they needs must dye 't was thought best To keepe the infant in the mother's chest It had both life and death from her the wombe In which it was begot became the tombe There was some marble sav'd because in her The wombe that bare it was a sepulcher Whose Epitaphs are these here lyes a child that shall Be free from all sins but originall Here lyes a pittied mother that did dye Onely to beare her poore child companie 113. In quendam Stay mortall stay remove not from this tombe Before thou hast consider'd well thy dombe My bow stands ready bent couldâ—st it see Mine arrow 's drawne to head and aymes at thee Prepare yet wandring ghost take home this line The grave that next is op'ned may be thine 114. On Sir Philip Syâ—ney Reader Within this ground sir Philip Sydney lyes Nor is it fit that more I should acquaint Least superstition rise And men adore A Lover Scholler Souldier a Saint 115. Vpon Iohn Crop who dyed by taking a vomit Man's life 's a game at tables and he may Mend his bad fortune by his wiser play Death plaâ—'s against us each disease and sore Are blotts if hit the danger is the more To lose the the game but an old stander by Bind's up the blotts and cures the malady And so prolongs the game John Crop was hee Death in a rage did challenge for to see His play the dice are throwne when first he drink 's Cast's makes a blott death hits him with a Synke He cast's againe but all in vaine for death By th' after-game did winne the prize his breath What though his skill was good his luck was bad For never mortall man worse casting had But did not death play false to wâ—nne from such As he no doubt he bare a man too much 116. On Q Elizabeth King's Queens Men's Virgin 's eyes See where the Mirrour lyes In whom her friend's have â—eene A Kings state in a Queene In whom her foes survay'd A man's heart in a Mayde Whom least men for her piety Should grow to thinke some diety Heaven hence by death did summon Her to shew she was a woman 117. On a vertuous youth Reader let a stone thee tell That in this body there did dwell A soule as heavenly rich and good As e're could live in flesh and blood And therefore heav'n that held it deare Did let it stay the lesse while here Whose corps here sacred ashes mak's Thus heav'n and earth have parted stakes 118. On a learned Noble man Hee that can reade a sigh and spell a teare Pronounce amaze-ment or accent wilde feare Or get all greiâ—e by heart hee onely hee Is fit to write or reade thy Elegye Unvalued Lord that wer 't so hard a Text Reade in one age and understood i' th' next 119. On a Lady Finis and Bonum are converted so That ev'ry good thing to an end must goe 120. On Mr. Mychael Drayton buried in Westminster Admarmor Tumulj Doe pious Marble let thy Readers know What they and what their children owe To Drayton's sacred name whose â—ust We recommend unto thy trust Protect his memory preserve his story And a lasting monument of his glory And when thy ruines shall disclaime To be the Treasury of his name His name which cannot fade shall bee An everlasting monument to thee 121. On a Faulconer Death with her talons having seas'd this prey After a tedious flight truss'd him away We mark'd him here he fell whence he shall rise
but not to all For some are great fools whose fortunes are small 430 Tace sed age Little or nothing said soon mended is But they that nothing do do most amisse 431 On a Mad-mà n One ask'd a mad-man if a wife he had A wife quoth he I never was so mad 432 To Scilla If it be true that promise is a debt Then Scillâ— will her freedome hardly get For if she hath vow'd her service to so many She 'll neither pay them all nor part from any Yet she to satisfy her debts desires To yeild her body as the Laâ— râ—quires 433 Nescis quid serus vesper vehat Lyncus deviseth as he lies in bed What new apparrell he were best to make him So many fashions flow within his head As much he fears the Taylor will mistake him But he mistook him not that by the way Did for his old â—uit lay him up that day 434 To Ficus Ficus hath lost his nose but knows not how And that seems strange to every one that knows it Methinks I see it written in his brow How wherefore and the cause that he did loose it To tell you true Ficus I thus suppose 'T was some French Caniball bit off your nose 435 Of Arnaldo Arnaldo free from fault demands his wife Why he is burthen'd with her wicked life Quoth she good husband do not now repent I far more burthens bear yet am content 436 Quis nisi mentis inops Ware profer'd stinks yet stay good Proverb stay Thou art deceiv'd as clients best can say Who profering trebble fees for single care It 's well accepted gold it is such ware 437 On a Friend indeâ—d A reall friend a Canon cannot batter With nom'nall friends a Squib's a perilous matter 438 Mans ingresse and egresse Nature which headlong into life did throng us With our feet forward to our grave doth bring us What is lesse ours than this our borrowed breatâ— We stumble into life we go to death 439 On bad deâ—tors Bad debtors are good lyers for they say I 'le pay you without fail on such a day Come is the day to come the debt is still So still they lye though stand in debt they will But Fulcus hath so oft ly'd in this wise That now he lies in Lud-gate for his lyes 440 On a foolish dolt A Justice walking o're the frozen Thames The Ice about him round began to crack He said to 's man here is some danger Iames I prethee help me over on thy back 441 On Panurgus Panurgus pryes in high and low affairs He talks of forraigne and our civill state But for his own he neither counts nor cares That he refers to fortune and his â—ate His neighbors faults straight in his face he 'l find But in a bag he laps his own behind 442 To a sleeping talker In sleep thou talk'st unfore-thought mysteries And utter'st unfore-seen things with close eyes How wel wouldst thou discourse if thou wert dead Since sleep death's image such fine talk hath bred 443 Omne simile non est idem Together as we walk'd a friend of mine Mistook a painted Madam for a signe That in a window stood but I acquainted Told him it was no woodden signe was painted But Madam yea true said he Yet 't is little signe of modesty 444 Qui ebrius laudat temperantiam Severus likes not these unseason'd lines Of rude absurdities times foul abuse To all posterities and their assignes That might have bin saith he to better use What sencelesse gull but reason may convince Or jade so dull but being kick'd will wince 445 On Misus They say the Usurer Misus hath a mill Which men to powder grindeth cruelly But what is that to me I feare no ill For smaller than I am I cannot be 446 On wisdome and vertue Wise-men are wiser than good-men what then 'T is better to be wiser than wise men 447 On Ducus Ducus keeps house and it with reason stands That he keep house hath sold away his lands 448 On Mysus and Mopsus Mysus and Mopsa hardly could agree Striving about superiority The Text which saith that man and wife are one Was the chief argument they stood upon She held they both one woman should become He held they should be man and both but one So they contended dayly but the strife Could not be ended till both were one wife 448 On Photinus I met Photynus at the B. Court Cited as he said by a knave relator I ask'd him wherefore he in laughing sort Told me it was but for a childish matter How ere he laught it out he lied not Indee d'twas childish for the child he got 449 On Caâ—triotes See see what love is now betwixt each fist Since Castriotes had a scabby wrist How kindly they by clawing one another As if the left haâ—d were the right hands brother 450 New Rhetoricke Good arguments without coyn will not stick To pay and not to say's best Rhetorick 451 Est miâ—i Diva parens Ominus wondreth since he came from Wales What the description of this Isle might be That ne're had seen but mountains hils and dales Yet would he boast and stand on 's pedegree From Rice ap Ricâ—ard sprung from Dick a Cow Be cod was right good gentle-man look ye now 452 On Tâ—irsites Although Thirsites have a filthy facae And staring eyes and little outward grace Yet this he hath to make amends for all Nature hâ—r selfe is not more naturall 453 On Zoylus If Souldiers may obtain four Termes of war Muskets should be the pleaders Pikes the bar For black bags Bandeleirs Jackets for gownes Angels for fees we 'll take no more crack't crowns 454 On a swearing Gallant What God coÌ„mands this wretched creature loathes He never names his Maker but by oathes And weares his tongue of such a damned fashion That swearing is his only recreation In morning even assoon as he doth rise He swears his sleep is scarcely out of 's eyes Then makes him ready swearing all the while The drowzy weather did him much beguile Got ready he to dice or tables goes Swearing an oath at every cast he throws To dinner next and then in stead of Grace He swears his stomack is in hungry case No sooner din'd but calls come take away And swears 't is late he must goe see a Play There sits and swears to all he hears and see 's This speech is good that action disagrees So takes his Oaâ—es and swears he must make hast His houre of Supper-time is almost past 455 On a long Beard Thy Beard is long better it would thee â—it To have a shorter Beâ—rd and longer wit 456 On my Selfe Who seeks to please all men each way And not himselfe offend He may begin to work to day But God knows when hee 'l end 457 To the mis-interperter Cease gaul'd backt guilt those inscious lines to mince The world wil know y' are rubd if once you wince They hem within their â—eeming Critique wall
a child of two yeeres old being borne and dying in Iuly Here is laid a July-flow'r With surviving teares bedew'd Not despayring of that houre When her spring shall be renew'd E're she had her Summer seene Shee was gather'd fresh and greene 29. Another Like bird of prey Death snatcht away This harmelesse dove Whose soule so pure Is now secure In heaven above 20. Another That flesh is grasse It 's grace a flower Reade e're you passe Whom wormes dovourâ— 21. On a Cobler Death at a Coblers doore oft made a stand And alwaies found him on the mending hand At last came death in very foule weather And ript the soale from the upper leather Death put a trick upon him and what was 't The cobler call'd for 's awle death brought his Laste 22. On a Lock-smith A zealous Lock-smith dy'd of late Who by this time 's at heaven-gate The reason why he will not knocke Is 'cause he meanes to picke the locke 23. On a Collier Here lies the Collier Jenkin Dashes By whom death nothing gain'd he swore For living he was dust and ashes And being dead he is no more 24. On Dick Pinner Here lyes Dick Pinner O ungentle death Why did'st thou rob Dick Pinner of his breath For living he by scraping of a pin Made better dust then thou hast made of him 25. On M. Thomas Best With happie stars he sure is blest Where â— ere he goes that still is Best 26. On Robyn Round Robyn's gone this grave doth inclose The pudding of his doublet and his hose 27. On Proud Tygeras Proud and foolish so it came to passe He liu'd a Tyger and he dy'd and Asse 28. On Iohn Cofferer Here lyes Iohn Cofferer and takes his rest Now he hath chang'd a coffer for a chest 29. On blind and deafe Dicke Freeman Here lyes Dicke Freeman That could not heare nor see man 30. On a Miller Death without warning was as bold as briefe When he kill'd two in one Miller Thiefe 31. On a disagreeing couple Hîc jacet ille qui â—enties mille Did scold with his wife Cùm illo jacet illa quae communis in villâ did quittance his life His name was Nicke the which was sicke And that very malâ— Her name was Nan who lou'd well a man So gentlemen vale 32. On a Sack-sucker Good reader blesse thee be assur'd The spirit of Sack lyes here immur'd Who havock'd all he could come by For Sack and here quite sack'd doth lye 33. On a Lady Here lyes one dead under this marble stone Who when she liv'd lay under more than one 34. On a Westler Death to this Wrestler gave a fine fall That tript up his heeles and tooke no hold at all 35. On Iohn Death Here 's Death intterred that liu'd by bread Then all should live now death is dead 36. On a Scrivener Here to a period is the Scrievener come This is the last sheet his full point this tombe Of all aspersions I excuse him not 'T is knowne he liu'd not without many a blot Yet he no ill example shew'd to any But rather gave good coppies unto many He in good letters alwaies hath beene bred And hath writ more then many men have read He rulers had as his command by law And though he could not hang yet he could draw He far more bond men had made than any A dash alone of his pen ruin'd many That not without good reason we might call Hiâ— letters great or little Capitall Yet is the Scriveners fate as sure as just When he hath all done then he falls to dust 37. On a Chandler How might his dayes end that made weekes or hee That could make light here laid in darkenes bee Yet since his weekes were spent how could he chose But be depriu'd of light his trade lose Yet dead the Chandler is and sleep's in peace No wonder long since melted was his greace It seemes that he did evill for daylight He hated and did rather wish the night Yet came his workes to light were like gold Prou'd in the fire but could not tryall hold His candle had an end and death's black night Is an extinguisher of all his light 38. On a young gentle-woman Nature in this small volume was about To perfect what in women was left out Yet carefull least a peice so well begun Should want preservatives when she had done E're she could finish what she undertooke Threw dust upon it and shut up the booke 39. On an Infant The reeling world turn'd poet made a play I came to see 't dislik't it wâ—nt my way 40. On a Lady dying quickly after her husband He first deceased she a little try'd To live without him liked not and dy'd 41. On a Smith Farewell stout Iron-side not all thine art Could make a shield against death's envious dart Without a fault no man his life doth passe For to his vice the Smith addicted was He oft as choller is encreas't by fire Was in a â—ume and much enclin'd to ire He had so long bin us'd to forge that he Was with a blacke coale markt for forgery But he for witnesse needed not to care Who but a blacke-smith was though neâ—'e so fayre And opertunities he slacked not That knew to strike then when theâ—ir'n was hot As the doore-nailes he made hee 's now as dead He them death him hath knockt on the head 42. On Mr. Stone Jerusalems curse is not fulfill'd in mee For here a stone upon a stone you see 43. On a Child Into this world as stranger to an Inne This child came guest-wise where when it had beene A while and fâ—und nought worthy of his stay He onely broke his fast went away 44. On a man drown'd in the snow Within a fleece of silent waters drown'd Before my death was knowne a grave I found That which exil'd my life from her sweet home For griefe straight froz it selfe into a tombe One element my angry fate thought meet To be my death grave tombe winding-sheet Phaebus himselfe mine Epitaph had writ But blotting many e're he thought one fit He wrote untill my grave and tombe were gone And â—twas an Epitaph that I had none For every one that passed by that way Without a sculpture read that there â— lay Here now the second time untomb'd I lye And thus much have the best of Destinie Corruption from which onely one was free Devour'd my grave but did not feede on mee My first grave tooke me from the â—ace of men My last shall give me backe to life agen 45. On Prince Henry In natur's law 't is a plaine case to dye No cunning Lawyer can demurre on that For cruell death and destiny Serve all men with a Latitat So Princely Henry when his case was try'd Confess'd the action paid the debt and dy'd 46. On Mr. Strange Here lyes one Strange no Pagan Turke nor Jew It 's strange but not so strange as it is true